


Noodles

by Xeen



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 09:27:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xeen/pseuds/Xeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Food is a part time activity when you're a cop. Another day on the job for Kennex and Dorian. Harmless banter... and lots of dialog ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noodles

**NOODLES**

_An ALMOST HUMAN fanfic._

_Food is a part time activity when you're a cop. Another day on the job for Kennex and Dorian. Harmless banter... and lots of dialog ;)_

-o-

"Let's go get some noodles," exclaimed an unusually cheerful John Kennex.

"You're aware that I don't eat?" Dorian's stern answer was proof enough that the joke was not lost on him.

"Perfect, I'm buying!" insisted the detective, not afraid of milking it.

Dorian watched John Kennex polish off his bowl of bo bun with a critical eye. "Aren't you aware of scurvy?"

The detective wiped his mouth. "Scurvy? Did they program you in the 17th century?" he chuckled with a smirk.

"Scurvy was at one time common aboard ships…"

"I know, I've seen reruns of Pirates of the Caribbean when I was a kid."

"… when it is in fact first described five centuries BC by Hippocrates of Kos. Many native cultures prevented nutritional deficiency with herbal cures and citrus fruits since prehistory."

"Did you just call me a Neanderthal?"

"I'm just saying they knew. As you must."

"Drop it. I won't change my diet on account of your expert recommendations. You're still the one who doesn't eat, in my book that makes me some kind of expert."

"I give you only one word. Green."

"You're an environmentalist now?"

"Though I could provide you with riveting facts on our catastrophic global warming, I'm currently more concerned about your health, man."

"Don't you man me. I'm grateful for your olive oil tip, and yes, it worked fine, but noodles are sacred. That's final," Kennex spat.

He swiped his plastic. "Thank you for choosing our restaurant. We value your business," said an ethereal female voice. He slipped the card back inside his pocket, and checked his weapon without thinking. "Now, let's get some real coffee," he gave the android a pat on the shoulder and left in a huff.

"You won't get around your deficiency of ascorbic acid by adding this beverage to your diet," said Dorian, matching his pace. "Some chemicals in coffee can react with thiamine leading you to yet another problem: beriberi."

Kennex turned around. "Chemicals? Are you kidding me?"

"Tannins," Dorian nodded. "You must know that symptoms of the disease are emotional disturbances and impaired sensory perception," he gave the detective an intent gaze, "and could eventually cause cardiac failure."

"I won't turn into a salad freak or drink distilled water or herbal tea…"

"Distilled water has proven to increase tooth decay," Dorian continued, unperturbed. "Plastic used for bottle containing has on the other hand estrogenic activity. That is if you plan to reproduce."

"How quaint!" Kennex rolled his eyes and opened the car door. "Reproduce! Really? Coming from a robot, that's rich!"

"I'm just sayin', man…" Dorian added before getting in the car. "Obviously, I can't have children of my own, but I seem to understand them better that you do. I could speculate that you'd probably be better off without kids. And the answer to your question is: I'm perfectly functional. Engaging in sexual activities is considered a bonus when undercover, thus part of my initial programming."

"Nah, nah, nah, I don't want details of your sexual prowess inside my head either! And I don't need a… synthetic to tell me how to live my life, for crying out loud. You may have a special soul or whatever Rudy calls it, but if you're supposed to be Mr friendly and have undercover sex, I mean why can't you at least indulge me and pretend to eat? Data could."

A smile grazed Dorian face when Kennex stubbornly dodged the subject. "Data? Fascinating reference." He paused. "I didn't picture you as a classic scifi fan," he said non-committally.

"I'm not," the detective protested with a perfunctory stare. He reversed out of his parking space into traffic without looking over his shoulder. Angry honking horns covered the screech of cars braking behind the patrol car. "Final frontier, my ass! Bunch of idealistic cissies, if you ask me, except for the Doc. At least he was realistic. Look where we are now. High tech criminals roving the streets? All this technology, that's complete bull, that is!" he shrugged.

"I guess I could adapt and eat. With you. Would it be satisfactory?"

"And I guess you would drag me to one of those vegetarian joints where people look like wraiths? No, thank you! Eat, don't eat, that's fine." He abruptly stopped the car before a non-descript coffee stall. "And don't mention my sex life again. Ever." He wagged his finger at Dorian. "I mean it."

"We're here," said Dorian evenly. "I suggest you go get your coffee. You might actually need it after an entire morning spent poring over gazillion documents."

"That's what detective do."

"That's what detective DID. I could do it way more efficiently. You persistently push me away. I'm not just a conversational doll, you know, I have skills."

"Well, I'm not used to your… skills. I'm used to having a human partner."

"A human partner was good enough for my father, it's good enough for me," said Dorian.

"Excuse me? Who did you hear that from? You were not even… awake… when I told Maldonado."

"MX have state of the art hearing capabilities and they never forget anything. Everything one knows, we all know because we share an instant updated data flow."

"Really? And still you're surprised to get stymied?"

"I'm not surprised. Your current behaviour is to be expected."

"You know that I can have Rudy send you to the space station?"

"And you know you'd be stuck with a brand new MX?"

"Arrogant tin can," Kennex grumbled. "I'll be back."

"T-800, Model 101," Dorian grinned. "Nice touch."

 


End file.
